


Plain and Simple

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: This is a NSFW, fluffy smut Christmas tale. I know, I know, it’s only September, but I saw mince pies in the shops …Written for the prompts: Must be a coincidence and Excuse me for falling in love with you.





	Plain and Simple

Later  
Mulder leant over her, the softness of her skin a warm thrill. Her back was arched over the ball and in the faint glow of the fairy lights her spine was studded like diamonds. He held his breath and felt himself get hard as he pushed against her. She moaned and rocked forward on the ball. He pinned his feet to the floor, toes digging into the wool carpet for traction.  
“Mulder,” she sighed. “Have I wished you a happy Christmas yet?”  
He pushed her hair aside and scattered kisses over the back of her neck. “I’d say this is a pretty good gift, Scully.”  
She pushed back against him and he groaned. “You wanted me plain and simple, Mulder.”  
“I can’t believe I said that. You are never plain, and you’re certainly not simple.”  
He ran his tongue along her jaw and slipped his hand under a breast, tweaking her nipple. “Oh god, Mulder. That feels so good.” She pushed them back and forth again.  
“Rock on,” he said.  
Her fluttery giggle seemed fitting in the festive setting.  
“Mulder?”  
Scully sucked in a breath.  
“Mr Mulder? Are you still up?”  
Earlier  
Family Christmas Scully-style should have been the name of the latest Hollywood horror movie franchise. Mulder watched as people manoeuvred around the kitchen in Maggie Scully’s house wielding weapons that sliced, diced, slashed and cut. Vegetables, small birds, big birds, salad leaves, nothing was sacred. Everything was boiled, whipped, smashed or steamed. It was hot and dirty and he just couldn’t seem to find a rhythm. When he was handed a bowl, he wasn’t sure if he should sniff it, taste it, put it in the oven, the fridge or on the table. At one point he was holding a dish of what looked suspiciously like the bile that he’d touched in Eugene Tooms’ lair, a bowl filled with meringue that he wanted to smash into Bill Scully jr’s smug face and a pair of champagne flutes.  
“Mulder,” Scully said, “take those into the dining room. You should be able to find a spot on the table. And pour mum a drink. She’s getting a little stressed.”  
He nodded and headed out of the manic room to find sanctuary in the larger space where the table was primped and preened for the feast. He was pleased just to get the glasses down without breaking them when he heard Scully giggle. Her face was flushed from a pre-lunch drink.  
“Are you okay, Mulder?”  
It was their catch-cry. Their litmus test, their barometer. Too many times it had been asked for reasons all too scary. But today, it was playful and he grinned back at her. “I’m fine, Dr Scully. But I must confess to feeling a little overwhelmed. All this tradition is making me want to break out and find some Reticulans to share a day of clomping around in alien-goo, exchanging coded messages and eating space junk food.”  
She slipped an arm around his waist. “Maybe if you’re a good boy, Santa will give you what you want.”  
He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “If I’d known we were sharing Christmas wishes, I would have done better, Scully.”  
“And what would you have wished for?”  
Her hair brushed the side of his face and he turned her around the hold her in his arms. “You, unwrapped and ready, no turkey, no stuffing, no plum pudding. Just you, plain and simple.”  
She tiptoed and kissed him. “Play nice, and your wish might just come true.”  
The door opened with such force that the glasses on the table chinked together. “Dana,” Bill jr boomed. “Mum is waiting for you.”  
Mulder let her go. Reluctantly.  
“To do what?”  
Bill moved towards them, his face red with alcohol. Or maybe anger. Mulder could never tell. “To help.”  
“There’s a small army of helpers in there, brother dearest. I’m sure I’d just getting in the way.”  
Mulder felt Bill’s eyes rake over him and he didn’t know whether to salute him or to punch him. “Come on Scully, let’s go and see where we can lend a hand.”  
“I liked your hands where they were,” Scully said, and smacked him lightly on the backside.  
Bill glowered. Mulder smiled.  
The tree was almost hidden behind the mountain of gifts that were piled up around it. The fairy lights twinkled like Scully’s smile as she handed out presents to nephews and nieces and brothers and cousins and family friends.  
She grinned at Mulder and pushed a small, beautifully wrapped gift towards him. “This says, ‘this gift must only be opened by someone who bears the name of a cunning and wily canine’.”  
He shook his head. “Nobody here answer to the name of Wolf, or Coyote, or Hyena or Dingo?”  
Bill barked out a laugh. “They’re all mangy dogs, Dana.”  
“Bill,” Maggie warned. “Foxes are renowned for their speed, their responsiveness, they teach us to be smart and sharp.”  
“Then this must be for you, Mulder,” Scully said, with a throaty purr.  
He took the gift and smiled at her. “Must be a coincidence, Scully. My gift for you is just the same.” He handed her the small package he’d been hiding behind his back.  
Pressing a kiss to his lips she took his gift and glared at her brother. “Great minds think alike, Mulder.”  
“You open yours first, Scully.”  
“Why can’t you two just call each other by your first names, like everybody else?” Bill took a long swig from his beer and Tara shot him a look.  
Maggie shook her head. “There are many forms of intimacy, Bill. You should have heard some of the names your father had for me.”  
The deep flush on Bill’s face and neck added to the warmth in the room. Mulder didn’t know where to look, but Scully was grinning so hard that he nodded at the gift in her hand and tried to ignore her brother huffing and puffing in his arm chair. “Open it, please.”  
She untied the knot in the red silky ribbon, unstuck the tape and unfolded the corners. The gift slipped out from its wrapping and she held up the first edition of Moby Dick. Her mother gasped and Tara clapped. Bill grunted.  
“This is perfect, Mulder. Thank you.” Her simple words stirred something in him and he felt flushed with pride. “Your turn,” she said softly, pointing to her gift in his hands. “I don’t think it can live up to this.”  
He unwrapped the gift and held it up to inspect it. His heart pounded. “This is amazing, Scully. Where did you find it?”  
“It’s amazing what gems the internet can offer up, if you spend enough time trawling through the detritus.”  
“What is it, uncle Fox?” Matthew asked.  
Mulder turned the book around to show the boy. “This is the answer to everything, Matthew.”  
The child frowned and read the title. “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. Is it about aliens?”  
Mulder grinned. “Isn’t everything?” He leant forward to kiss Scully on the cheek. “Thank you. Signed first edition, Scully. It means a lot.” His voice dropped lower. “You mean a lot.”  
She brushed her lips across his jaw and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Mulder. I know how hard this is for you.”  
“I wouldn’t deprive you of your family Christmas, Scully. I know how important it is to you and your mother.”  
Maggie smiled at them both, raised a glass and winked. “I think she likes you, Fox.”  
It was dark outside. Quiet inside. Matthew had long since quit complaining that it was too early for bed. Tara had bid goodnight and taken her pregnant self to bed. Bill snored for an hour before Maggie tugged at his arm and sent him packing. She wished Scully and Mulder a goodnight and closed the door.  
“You’ve been wonderful today, Mulder.” She leant her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”  
“You deserve nothing less, Scully.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her legs onto his lap. “Foot massage?”  
She nodded. “Have you always been this good a boyfriend?”  
“Is that what I am?”  
“You’re the best one I’ve ever had,” she said, sighing as he rubbed her feet. “Even if you are a little spooky.”  
He chuckled. “I haven’t been spooky for a while, Scully. I am very sensible these days.”  
“I did not fall in love with you to be sensible, Mulder.”  
“Are you suggesting I change my ways just to make you fall in love with me even more?”  
“I wouldn’t dare suggest that, but it’s Christmas night and we’re alone and there are all sorts of ways to be unsensible, Mulder.”  
“Is that a word, Dr Scully?” His fingers traced her ankles and slipped under the leg of her pants.  
“It is if I say it is. That’s nice, Mulder.”  
“I can be unnice, if you want.” His other hand ran up her thigh and found her fly, unbuttoning it with deftness. She gasped as his fingers pushed into her, tender but urgent. She shifted so he could find the spot and when he did, she groaned into his shoulder.  
“I like it when you’re this kind of unnice, Mulder. It’s another reason why I love you.”  
“If you say that to me every time I do something different, you might just blow my mind.”  
“Well, Mulder, excuse me for falling in love with you and your manual dexterity.”  
“What about some oral dexterity, Scully?” He took his hand away and she mewled out a soft cry of protest. But when he pulled her pants down and slipped her underwear over her hips, she let out a cry of anticipation. He nuzzled her, pushing his nose against her pubic bone, letting the fine hairs whisper against his nostrils and inhaling her Scully scent. It never failed to get him hard. Just the memory of her sometimes did the trick, which made for awkward moments in mundane situations. She scooted back against the chair and let her legs fall open and he looked at her first. Her fingers in his hair, her hitched breathing, her wet warmth in front of him, her lazy, expectant smile. Even without the pine scent and buzz of alcohol in his veins, it really felt like Christmas.  
“Mulder,” she whispered. “What are you waiting for?”  
He chuffed and looked up at her. “I can’t say Christmas, can I?” Her laugh fluttered away as he licked her in one, slow swipe then headed back up again. He rolled his tongue to a point and flicked it against her clit in a rhythm that she dictated with her slow hip rolls. He slipped his index finger in and curled it up and she gasped. His middle finger swirled and turned eliciting a sharp pant each time. Her hips moved harder, urgent. He flattened his tongue against her, holding it there until her legs quivered against his cheeks. Her muscles tightened and he licked her clit again and again until he felt her breathing stop. His fingers pushed in and out and she clenched her buttocks, lifting them high off the chair, exerting a choking pressure on his neck. His erection strained against his jeans and he held his own breath to increase the pleasure. She cried out as her orgasm hit hard and as she slowly lowered herself back down he fed off her pulses until the lower half of his face was slick.  
“Fuck, Mulder. That was insane.”  
She sat forward and took his face and kissed him, over his mouth, his chin, his jawline, everywhere she had been. It was the most erotic thing and he wanted to plunge into her but there was still the problem of clothes and the fact that they’d probably already overstepped the mark in Maggie Scully’s living room.  
“Do you think we should move this party somewhere a little more private?”  
“If this is how you party, Mulder, I think I’m going to like our hedonistic lifestyle for many years to come.”  
He pulled her up and she stood before him in her rumpled jumper, naked from the waist down. “Did you just propose to me Scully?”  
She twisted round to find her underwear and he enjoyed the view of her perfect ass for a beat. “If I did, it was pretty lame. I can do better.”  
“I might hold you to that.” He held out her pants.  
She glanced down at the bulge in his jeans and smiled. “I might hold you to that first.”  
“Your room or mine?”  
She took his and hand he followed her to the back room that Maggie had made up for him. She’d been using it as a storage room and it was full of old gym equipment and suitcases.  
Scully turned and unzipped his fly, yanking his jeans down as he pulled his tee-shirt off. She shucked off her blouse and he unclipped her bra. He grazed her erect nipples with his thumbs before bending to get a taste. He stepped out of his jeans and she fumbled with this boxers, freeing him for a cold second before grasping him in her eager hand. She stroked and teased, rubbing a thumb over the tip and under. She sunk to her knees and he found her hair, pulling silky stands through his fingers as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft before swallowing him. Her rhythm was everything and he couldn’t he had to talk to her, to tell her she was doing everything right.  
“That’s so good, Scully. Yes, right there. Ohmygod, ohmygod, yes.”  
She brought him to the edge of pleasure so many times but he wanted to come inside her and reluctantly he pulled her up.  
“Bed?”  
He looked around. “Ball?”  
She followed his gaze and saw the exercise ball against the far wall. She slipped past him and knelt in front of it, draping herself over it.  
Mulder leant over her, the softness of her skin a warm thrill. Her back was arched over the ball and in the faint glow of the fairy lights her spine was studded like diamonds. He held his breath and felt himself get hard as he pushed against her. She moaned and rocked forward on the ball. He pinned his feet to the floor, toes digging into the wool carpet for traction.  
“Mulder,” she sighed. “Have I wished you a happy Christmas yet?”  
He pushed her hair aside and scattered kisses over the back of her neck. “I’d say this is a pretty good gift, Scully.”  
She pushed back against him and he groaned. “You wanted me plain and simple, Mulder.”  
“I can’t believe I said that. You are never plain, and you’re certainly not simple.”  
He ran his tongue along her jaw and slipped his hand under a breast, tweaking her nipple. “Oh god, Mulder. That feels so good.” She pushed them back and forth again.  
“Rock on,” he said.  
Her fluttery giggle seemed fitting in the festive setting.  
“Mulder?”  
Scully sucked in a breath.  
“Mr Mulder? Are you still up?”  
If it hadn’t have been Bill jr asking, Mulder would have laughed loud at the irony. But Bill blundered in to the room and switched on the light.  
“Jesus, fuck.” He switched the light back off.  
Mulder pushed himself back and Scully scrambled for the bed, diving under the sheet. “Bill, ever heard of knocking?” It was the same tone she used when Mulder had overstepped the mark of outlandish theories. There was ice forming on her tongue.  
“I didn’t imagine you would be in here. I came to see Mulder.”  
“I’d say you saw more of me that you bargained for, Bill. Let me just…get some clothes on and I’ll be right out.”  
His hands were trembling as he pulled on his jeans. Scully was now giggling softly into the pillow. “Glad you can see the humour in the scenario, Scully. I’ve got to face your brother after he’s had a full view of my backside.”  
“Lucky him,” she said, before bursting into laughter again. “Get him drunk out there, Mulder and he won’t remember any of it.”  
By the time he snuck back into the room, Scully was snoring softly. He slipped into the narrow bed beside her and she sighed as his cold body found her warmth.  
“Did you have fun with my brother?” Her voice was gravelly and delicious. He nuzzled her neck.  
“Not as much fun as I was having with you, but we sorted out a few things. I think he quite likes me now. So that was a nice surprise.”  
“Mmm, nice,” she said.  
“I like unnice better,” he said, cupping her breast.  
“Me too, but I’m sleepy.” She turned to kiss him. “Happy Christmas, Mulder.”  
“Happy Christmas, Scully.”  
The room is blanketed in the gentle silence of a sleeping house and he exhales long and slow into her neck. She shifts lightly against him. He’s always loved a drowsy Scully – a softer and looser version of herself.  
“Scully?”  
“Mmm?”  
“You said earlier that your proposal could be better. What did you mean?”  
She let out a small laugh and turned over. Her hair was mussed and there were lines over her face from the creases in the pillow fabric. She was sleep-warm in his arms. She kissed his mouth.  
“Fox William Mulder. Will you marry me?”  
He held his breath a moment, processing her words. Plain and simple. Perfect.  
“Yes,” he whispered.  
“Goodnight, Mulder.”  
“Goodnight, Scully.”


End file.
